I had
this really weird Dante related dream the other night. I won't
recount exactly what happened, because that would scare several of
you, but lets just call it weird. I think I might need therapy
to get over it.

Anyways,
I took it as my Muse none too gently prodding me in the direction of
the Clerks fandom. And since I just re-watched it and
remembered just how much I adore Randal, I felt like dipping a
toe into the Jersey waters. Blame this on watching Clerks and
Scrooged way too close together.

Oh
God...I just got an idea for another one shot.

----

Dante
always got the interesting customers.

Randal
always got the stupid ones.

Granted,
Dante got his share of those too, but nowhere near as many as
Randal.

And
they weren't even interesting stupid customers, just a steady
stream of moron after moron with no distinguishing characteristics
other than their all encompassing idiocy.

He
could count on the fingers of one hand all the customers who'd
actually managed to make an impression on him and even then, most of
them were only borderline memorable.

Dante
on the other hand...

Randal
couldn't even think about counting how many interesting people
filtered into the Quick Stop at all hours.

He
wasn't jealous, of course, because the idiots were infinitely easier
to deal with than the interesting ones, but every once in a while he
wondered what he would do if someone croaked in the curtained off
adult video section.

After a
while, he resigned himself to never getting a truly interesting
customer and just stopped looking for them.

He
suffered through the morons, halfwits and savages, cutting most of
them down to size in his slightly passive aggressive, sarcastic way
without incident.

But
every once in a while, there was an incident.

The one
that would always stick out most prominently in his memory took place
around Christmas time when the owner of the RST had, for the first
time, decided that some holiday decorations were in order.

He
thought all the holly and mistletoe would help bring up customer
volume or something, Randal supposed.

There
were only a handful of people who popped inside the RST anymore.
After all, even Randal rented at the movie palace that was Big
Choice, the only people who came into the RST were either those who
were used to Randal's antics (they numbered four) or those who didn't
know any better.

So
Randal's days were virtually work free. All he had to do was stay and
watch the store.

Not
that he did that anyway. He spent most of his time pestering Dante
next door.

It
never occurred to him that maybe the reason why he never got
any interesting customers in the video store was because he wasn't
around when they showed up.

But
on this particular night, he was in the right place at the right
time.

Sprawled
out on the counter, newspaper in it's usual place spread out in front
of him, he heard the bell on the front door ring noisily.

He
didn't bother to look up, of course, just flipped to the next page of
the paper and continued reading.

Randal
stayed that way until three video cases were plunked down next to his
leg.

What am
I saying, he stayed that way even after the video cases were
plunked down next to him.

Someone
at the counter cleared their throat loudly in a decidedly feminine
manner, trying to get his attention.

Randal
just flipped the page again.

"Ahem."

If he
was lucky, she'd give up and get lost.

"COUGH!"

Maybe
one more page flip would do it...

"You've
certainly got the disaffected youth act down to a science, don't
you?"

Alright,
this one was persistent.

Randal
still didn't look up from his paper, "The term disaffected youth
suggests that I am both disaffected and a youth. I'm insulted by your
unfounded accusation that I'm disaffected."

"Wow...it
speaks." A hand popped into view and pushed his newspaper
down so that he was left looking at thin air, "I want to rent
these."

He
continued staring straight ahead to where his newspaper had been
moments before, "That was rude."

"I
like rude," came the tart reply, "I'd also
like to rent these, if that's alright with you."

Clearly,
this particular customer wasn't going to leave without a fight.
Randal sighed and hopped off the counter.

It was
the video cases he noticed first.

The
Holy Grail. The Trinity in celluloid form, stacked in order in front
of his face almost reverently.

The
Star Wars Trilogy. The original Star Wars trilogy.

Not
the digitally enhanced versions either.

After
the video cases, he noticed the customer.

Although
Randal couldn't tell you a thing about her if you asked him later, at
that moment, he felt like he'd been struck upside the head with a
Louisville slugger.

There
were two seconds during which Randal's higher brain functions went on
vacation before he snapped back to reality and shook it off.

"You
know, I've been looking for these everywhere," she said, tapping
the cases with her hand, "The originals are pretty hard to
find."

"Worth
a lot on the secondary market."

"Mhm...or
so I've heard." She slid her rental card across to him, "You
know there's a Star Wars memorabilia collector who's willing to pay
seven hundred dollars a tape for these because they're the original
releases."

Randal
was about to hit the button on the cash register that would pop the
drawer open, when he suddenly found himself yanked forward by the
shirt and nose to nose with the customer.

Or more
importantly, lips to lips.

There
was a moment of 'What the fuck?' and then there was the
obligatory 'Penthouse Forum, here I come!' moment after that,
followed closely by something incoherent in his head that not even a
linguist could have made sense of.

It was
fast, furious and over just as quickly as it had begun, but for the
first time in recorded history, Randal Graves was honest to God
speechless.

"Mistletoe,"
she muttered by way of explanation, slipping a hand around the tapes,
"I'll see you around."

The
bell on the door rang and she was gone.

He
didn't even notice that the rental card she'd slipped him was nothing
but a piece of laminated paper and that she had stolen the three rare
video tapes out from under his nose.

In
fact, Randal didn't notice much of anything for close to five solid
minutes.